Push From Conformists
by dyslexic-Carmie
Summary: When a former Raisins girl develops a crush on Michael, the band decides to milk her crush to make being starving artists a little easier. As expected Henrietta is not on board with Mercedes hanging around. Rated T for language.
1. Awkward Encounters Insure Awkwardness

Pete was on his way to meeting up with his goth friends when a very cheery blonde caught his attention.

"Hey, you're Pete right?"

He stopped walking to frown at her. "Yeah…"

"You're friends with Michael right?"

"Sure." He nodded confused as to who she was.

"Wow, I'm making this awkward." She laughed. "Do you remember me?"

"From what?"

"Remember a certain dance group that served some Orange County kids?" she asked. "Your friend Michael was on that group along with-" she points to herself "-this girl."

"Okay?"

"You don't remember that?"

He sighs. "I didn't really like elementary school."

"But you remember the dance group put together by Stan Marsh?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome and you're still friends with Michael?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Okie Dokie." She gave an award laugh. "Dude, I'm about to sound like a total romcom."

"Oh?"

"Well, I've been wondering why he hasn't ever stopped by to say hi or anything?"

"Uh… what's your name?"

"Mercedes," she said like he should have known that already. "Can you say hi to Michael for me and give him this-" without warning she hugged him. "Woah, you really smell like smoke up close."

He awkwardly patted her back and waited for the hug to end. "Uh…"

"Has he ever talked about me or anything?" Mercedes asked after the hug. "Woah, totally sounding like a romcom again. Anywho, it sorta makes me feel sad that he's never said hi or anything. He never really talked to expect for during the whole dance thing and that really wasn't much. The conversations were like 'hey you stepped on my foot' and 'you're in my way again'. He remembers who I am, right? I mean it would be insane if he didn't. And I'm rambling again. But, he does remember me, right?"

Pete shrugged again. "I have no idea."

"I guess he doesn't talk about me then. Probably, because I ramble too much." She gave another awkward laugh. "Well, when you see him can you give him my hug and can you ask him to visit me at work?"

"You still work at Raisins?"

She laughed. "No silly I'm far too big for that. I work at Hooters now." She tugged on the bottom of her shirt to make the restaurant's name more readable. "See?" She let go of her shirt.

"Yeah… you are far too big for that," he stated staring at her boobs. "I guess we could stop by to say hi or something." He returned his gaze to her face.

"Yay! I want to tell him that I have literally every song your band has made ever on my phone. Michael has such a pretty voice, ya know? Hey, wait aren't you in the band too? Yeah, you totally are. You play like guitar or something."

"Bass."

"Right! Same thing!"

"No-"

Mercedes cut him off. "That is so cool! You should totally tell Michael to stop by sometime to visit me."

He sighed. "I'll see if the group wants to go eat at Hooters. But, I'm not making any promises."

"Awesome! Well, I better get back to work. If you guys come by later ask for me." She began walking back inside the restaurant. "Okay? Okay? Bye!"

Pete awkwardly waved bye to her. "Yeah… bye."

* * *

Michael looked at the text message he just received. "Yeah, she's not coming."

Firkel pulled his cigarette out of his mouth. "Okay, so it's just us?"

"Yeah, she said that her family is making her go to some stupid reunion thing. She also put a lot of frowny faces in the message." He stood up from the steps. "I guess we're all going to Benny's without her."

Pete sighed and stood up. "Does it have to be Benny's?"

"We could go to the Village Inn," Michael suggested.

"I'm sort of getting tired of the same messed up places."

The youngest stood up from his usual spot on the ground. "The whole world is messed up."

"Want to go to a different messed up place?"

"Do you think it'll bother Henrietta if we tried something different without her?" the tall goth asked. "I don't want her to feel left out or anything."

"Since when do we do anything different?" Firkel added.

Pete shrugged. "I don't think she would care. And if you think she'll will we could just not tell her about our sudden burst of spontaneous."

"So, we're keeping secrets now?"

"Its not like she's going to ask if we went to the Village Inn or Benny's or whatever," the redhead told the taller boy. "If she asks where we went then we can just tell her the truth. That's not keeping secrets. Plus why would she care?"

The youngest of the goths took a drag from his cigarette. "That would make her a conformist."

"I guess you're right," Michael said sighing. "Where do you want to go?"

Pete looked at Firkel before answering. "Uh… Hooters."

"Hooters? Huh?"

"Hooters?" the curly haired goth asked in disbelief repeating the youngest. "Why would you think that we'd want to go there?"

"We're all dudes." The redhead with pimples shrugged. "Also the blonde, you know the girl that was on that dance team with you when we were kids?"

"Mercedes? The Raisin's girl?"

"Yeah, well now she grown up to work at Hooters. She asked about you-"

"When?"

"I saw her when I was walking over here. She was getting off on break and knew that I knew you. She wanted to know why you haven't ever stopped by to say hi or anything."

"Isn't that a marketing technique?" Firkel asked.

Pete shrugged. "Probably. She just seemed pretty upset that you've been ignoring her forever and never really talked to her except during the whole dancing thing. She's also really awkward. Like really awkward."

Michael sighed. "I think Henrietta would be really be upset if she found out that we went to Hooters to say hi to an awkward blonde."

"Yeah, that would bother her," Firkel agreed.

"She's at some stupid family reunion thing, and she'll only find out if she asks," Pete stated. "You can just say hi to Mercedes, we can get some coffee, and then we can leave. Its not like Henrietta controls what we do."

"They do have okay coffee. I only know that because I went there with my dad once. And that time was totally against my will," the curly headed goth admitted. "I guess we can do that."

"Woah, we're actually going there?" the youngest of the boys asked.

"Yeah… I guess so."

"Wouldn't that make us conformist?"

"We can drop you off at your house if you don't want to go," Michael said. "Saying hi to Mercedes won't make us conformists."

"Whatever. I think I'll just go home."

* * *

The two boys dropped their friend off at his house and went to Hooters. A giggly brunette, who like Mercedes once worked for Raisins, immediately greeted them once they entered the restaurant.

"Hey cuties! Welcome to Hooters," Lexus said greeting them. "Would you like me to seat you boys?"

"Actually we're looking for Mercedes," Michael stated. "I heard that she wanted to say hi to me or something."

The Hooters girl smiled. "Oh! Right, you're the guy that was on that dance team with her in elementary school or whatever. She talks about you like literally all the time. Its so annoying."

Pete looked at his friend then turned back to the Raisin's girl. "Really?"

Michael shrugged and didn't say anything.

"She's a huge fan of the music you guys make," Lexus stated. "She's been begging our boss to play your band's music here. Which would be cool I guess, but the boss says no because you guys are pretty unknown."

The shorter goth turned to face his taller friend. "So, this is our audience?"

"Yeah, this is weird for me too."

The Hooters girl giggled and twirled her hair unsure of what they were talking about. "If you like I could seat y'all and get Mercedes to wait for ya."

"Uh… okay."

They followed the girl to a seat in the back of the restaurant.

"Okie Dokie. Now you two cuties just hang here and Mercedes will be with ya shortly," she said before leaving the two goths.

Pete watched Lexus as she walked off. "I can't believe that we have potential groupies."

"Yeah…" Michael wasn't really paying attention since he was taking out his phone to view his text messages.

"At least they're not vamp kids."

The taller boy still scrolled through his phone still not really paying. "Hey, Henrietta asked what we're doing what should I say?"

"Just tell her that we're getting coffee. Also why are you suddenly so interested in what Henrietta thinks all the time?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Doesn't it feel a little weird that the second we hear that Henrietta won't be joining us we decide to go to Hooters?"

"No-"

Their waitress cut off his friend's answer. "Hey cutie! Long time no see. What all have you been up too besides making music? Oh, sorry I think I just interrupted your conversation."

"Oh… hi Mercedes."

She squealed. "You remembered my name! I thought you never learned it in the first place." She laughed. "Wow, I am such a geek! So, how are things going, Michael? Please answer that question before I say something even dumber. I'm totally freaking out right now. Can I have a hug?"

"Uh… sure?"

Mercedes gave Michael a hug. He awkwardly patted her back as she squeezed him close to her.

Pete snorted watching the awkward hug. "Marketing technique my ass."

"You smell like smoke and coffee," the Hooters girl said pulling away from the hug. "Its kinda hot."

"Uh… thank you?"

"So, how are things going?" She turned to Pete. "Oh, and before I forget thanks for brining him here, Pete. Did you remember to give him my hug?"

"Sure…"

"You never hugged me."

"Would you have wanted me to?"

"Of course."

Pete pushed his seat out from under the table. "Okay, come here."

"I don't want your pity hug."

The redhead pushed his seat back. "Fine."

Mercedes laughed. "You guys are fun. So, how are things going?" she repeated.

Michael sighed. "Things are going decent I guess. The world still sucks but its not like it wasn't supposed to suck."

"Wow, everything you say is so poetic. Do you do the song writing?"

The shorter of the boys answered. "We all sort of work on songs together. Henrietta-"

Mercedes turned to look at Pete. "The fat girl that plays the keyboard?"

They both stared at her.

"Oh, fat is offensive word. I didn't mean that she was like fat. I meant that she was like… above average in curvy. Yeah…"

"Yeah… that's way more polite," Pete said frowning. "She probably wrote the first drafts of almost all our songs."

"She's a good with words," Michael added. "And the keyboard."

She turned back to the curly haired goth. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Pete answered before Michael had the chance go talk. "She's single. We're all single. Dating is overrated."

Mercedes smiled brightly. "Really? None of y'all are seeing anybody?"

The dyed redhead rolled his eyes. "Yeah… don't sound so surprised."

"Oh… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound judgmental or whatever. I just can't believe that such a talented vocalist doesn't have a girlfriend. Wow, this conversation just took a turn to being too personal. I'm sorry." She gave an awkward laugh. "I'm such a dork. Please just order something before I say something even dumber."

"I was never given a menu," Pete said bored.

"Me too."

"Oh… right. I totally forgot to pick those up to give to y'all. I'm so dumb." She gave another awkward laugh. "I'll be right back with those."

"We just want coffee," Michael stated.

"I'll go get that before I do something stupider." Mercedes said before walking off.

Michael watched her walk off and then turned to his friend. "What?"

"She's into you."

"Well no shit," the taller goth said taking out his phone from his pocket.

Pete smiled. "You should milk her little crush and see what we can get away with."

"That doesn't sound right."

"Neither does killing but that's what you do it you're a minion of Cthulhu," his friend spat. "We're starving artists. Mercedes could probably get us a gig somewhere."

"How?"

"She's hot. Conformists bend over backwards for girls with boobs like that."

"She can't even get her boss to play our recording here."

"Well duh her boss writes her paycheck. Her boss is either a she or immune."

"I guess that makes sense." Michael shrugged. "So this is why you wanted to go to Hooters?"

"I really think our band could make it." Pete sighed. "We just need a little push from the conformists. And Mercedes could provide that. You should hang out with her. Invite her to hang with us."

The Hooters girl returned back to their table before Michael could say anything else.

"Hey, cuties I brought your menus and the coffee's on the house," she said handing them their drinks. "Would you like any creamer or anything?"

"We just use sweetener."

"Okie Dokie. I'll give you a few minutes to look at your menus call me back when you made a decision. Okay?"

"We're probably aren't going to order anything. We just came here to get coffee and say hi."

Mercedes laughed and sat down in one of the open chairs at the table. "Okay then. Are ya sure that you don't want anything to eat?"

Michael opened up a pack of sugar. "Yeah… so how are doing Mercedes? Are you still dancing or whatever?"

"Yep. But not for competition or anything," she answered. "I dance at work, my room, and at parties with my friends but that's about it. Speaking of parties why don't I see your band at any?"

"Parties aren't our thing," Michael answered.

"That's a shame. I would love to see your band play live at a party sometime. I bet I could get at least one of the places I go to with my friends to play y'all live."

"I bet you could too," Pete agreed starring Michael. He turned to look at Mercedes when his friend didn't pick up on what he was trying to get him to do.

There was an awkward silence. Pete gestured at Michael. Michael didn't get the message. And Mercedes just looked back and forth confused.

"Well, I guess I'll go off to handle the other tables," she said finally.

"Wait, I think I want some food or something," Pete said stopping her from leaving.

"You want food?"

"Yeah… I'm at a restaurant you're a waitress. Bring me food. Its that simple."

She frowned and stood up from the table. "What sort of food do you want?"

"Uh… hot wings, a burger, fries, anything. I don't know. I'm pretty sure those are the normal foods in this restaurant."

"They are. But which one of the normal foods do you want exactly?"

"I don't know. Just go bring me food or whatever. I really just want to eat. Pick whatever you want and give it to me."

She turned to look at Michael. "Just bring him some hot wings."

"What size?"

"I don't care!"

"The regular size."

"Do you want any sort of sauce with-"

Pete cut her off. "Dammit. I'm giving you the creative freedom to bring me whatever the hell you want."

"Uh… okay." She left to go get the food.

Once she was out of hearing distance Pete turned to Michael. "Thanks to you I'm stuck eating food at this joint."

"You could have not ordered food."

"How else would I be able to tell you to ask her out already?" the redhead stated. "You're clearly weren't getting the message I was sending through hand gestures."

"Huh?"

"Just ask her the fuck out. The band needs a gig she has a crush, milk it to get some gigs then call it off. Its that simple," his friend explained. "Its just the little push from the conformist we need."

"I don't see this plan working," he admitted. "Plus do you really want to listen to Henrietta bitch about Mercedes hanging around?"

"She'll get over it. The same way I got over you guys leaving me alone with Mike Makowski on that school trip," Pete spat. "You know that asshole likes to cuddle in his sleep, right?"

"It's not my fault you drew the smallest straw. And don't act like you had it the worst on that trip. Henrietta had to share a room with three of those vampire girls. She had to sleep next to one and sit through all their conformist conversations while Twilight was on."

"I never said that I had it the worst."

"Then stop bringing it up."

"I'm just trying to get you to realize that it's your turn."

"To sleep with a conformist?"

"No. Yes." Pete blushed. "Ugh, you're twisting what I'm saying. Just get a gig from her. Anything else you get from her is your call." He took a drink of his coffee. "Lucky for you she's actually hot."

"Fine. I'll try to get some our band some publicity," Michael said. "If Henrietta starts bitching about Mercedes its your problem."

Pete set his cup down. "Fair enough."

They didn't say anything until Mercedes came back with their food.

"Here's your food or whatever." She set the plate of hot wings down. "Do you know how hard it is to make put in an order when the request is just 'bring me food'?"

The redhead flipped his hair out of his face. "I imagine it gives you lots of creative freedom."

"It made me look like another ditzy blonde," she stated. "I also got lectured on being too intimate with the customers. Whatever that means. Oh and my boss is mad that I'm giving you free coffee. Its not like they dump all the extra in the sink when this joint closes or anything. Anyway, he's taking it out of my paycheck."

"Sorry, about that Mercedes," Michael said. "We really do appreciate the free coffee you're giving us."

Mercedes smiled. "Thanks. Well, I better get back to work before my boss lectures me again."

Pete kicked Michael's leg from under the table.

"Wait! Mercedes," the tall goth said stopping their waitress from walking off.

"Yes?"

"We-" Pete kicked his leg again. "I mean I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to make anything up to me," Mercedes said. "I've probably freaked y'all out with all my ranting, and just being myself."

"No, really I want to make it up to you. When do you get off?"

"Eight."

* * *

**A/N **

**So, awhile back I searched fanfic trying to find a story were the goths hang out with the Raisin girls. I couldn't find one. But, then again I'm not the best at finding things. I figured that putting the two total opposites of goths and Raisin girls together would be fun. Since they're totally different. **

**Anywho, being a person that suffers from the three different disabilities of dyslexia, blondness, and Americanness I likely to have misspelled or had a grammar mistake somewhere. Please feel free to point out any you may see. **


	2. Awkward Moments Are Awkward

Michael pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and turned to his friend. "Hey, Henrietta wants to know what we're doing tomorrow. Are we doing anything?"

Pete shrugged. "Probably the same old same old. Drinking coffee while observing the messed up world. Maybe with a little band practice thrown in for the hell of it." He blew a smoke ring. "Invite Mercedes if we have band practice."

"I don't have her number."

"Then get her number when she finishes work," the redhead stated. "She'll probably give you her number before you even ask for it. It's a little obvious that she has a crush on you."

He nodded in agreement as he sent Henrietta a response to her question. "I never said that it wasn't obvious."

"Also when Mercedes gets off don't be on your phone so much," Pete suggested as he stared at Michael's phone screen, which showed all the messaging he was doing with Henrietta. "Actually talk to Mercedes. Maybe even flirt a little."

Michael put his cigarette back in his mouth. "I don't flirt."

"None of us do," his friend agreed. "Just don't be texting Henrietta when Mercedes gets off. That annoys girls or something."

"Okay." His phone informed him that he received another message from Henrietta. He opened it. "Henrietta wants to know what we're doing right now."

"We're smoking in a parking lot. Why is so important for her to know, anyway? I really hate it when her female side kicks in and wants to be a mother and keep tabs on all of us."

He typed into his phone and hit send. "I left out the part about it being the Hooters parking lot. And the part about us waiting for Mercedes."

Pete blew another smoke ring. "That's probably smart. I really don't want to deal with Henrietta's female side tonight."

"She'll probably have a few words to say to us about going to Hooters." Michael groaned. "Introducing her to Mercedes is going to be a real picnic."

"Yeah, no kidding. Lucky for you I promised to be the one to deal with that." His friend stood up from his spot on the curve. "Well, I'm going to walk home."

"You're not going to wait for Mercedes with me?"

"I want to get home before my dad does. Also you're the one that promised to make it up to Mercedes."

"You're abandoning me."

"It'll probably be better if I'm gone anyway. She has the crush on you not me. You got to make her feel like you're the one that really cares about her."

"You're still abandoning me."

"Don't sound so dramatic," Pete said. "Remember to get her number. Also don't text Henrietta when you're with her. You got to lead her on a little if you want to milk her crush on you."

"I still don't like this. It makes me feel like a prostitute."

"Well, sharing a bed with Mike made me feel like a prostitute. You have it easy."

"You're never going to let that go are you?"

"Nope. Remember not to text Henrietta. Don't mess this up," Pete called out as he walked away.

"Bye." Michael waved and sat down to wait for Mercedes.

* * *

"Sorry, for making you wait so long," Mercedes said once she spotted Michael in the parking lot. "When you and Pete went outside to smoke we got a ton of really perverted customers. Like really perverted. Speaking of Pete-" she cut herself off for a second and laughed. "Woah, I didn't mean to imply that your friend is a perv. Did it sound like I implied that? My sentences just didn't line up right when they left my mouth. Ugh, yeah, so like did Pete leave?"

"He got bored around seven and decided to go home." Michael smiled. "So, what about those perverted customers you had today?"

"Its not just today. About every other day, a guy will come in here and ask me how much I'll charge him for touching my boobs, if it'll cost less to touch them over my shirt as opposed to under my shirt, if its against the law to grope my boobs, or if they can see my boobs. Woah, I just said 'boobs' a lot. I'm pretty sure that these questions are slowly killing me."

Michael stared at her unsure of what to say to that. His phone buzzed in his pocket informing him that he had a text from most likely Henrietta. He didn't open it on Pete's request.

The Hooters girl gave an awkward laugh after an awkward beat of silence. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make this conversation all about my boobs. We can talk about somebody else's boobs if you want. Or not about boobs. Not talking about boobs would be nice. And I'm being weird again."

"Sure, let's not talk about boobs." The goth paused. "So…. What exactly does that leave us to talk about?"

"Anything really. Just please not work related. My boss isn't the nicest. And the customers, not you and… well… I don't think Pete likes me too much." She pushed her hair out of her face. "I probably freaked him out or something. That's probably why he went home. Did I scare him off? I would feel really bad if I did."

"Nah, little scares us. Pete just wanted to get home before his parents got home." He gave an awkward smile. "Also making it up to you was my idea. Pete and I really…" he paused and remembered what Pete told him. "Well mainly me, feel really bad that your boss yelled at you on our behalf."

"They poured the rest of the coffee down the sink. It's so wasteful." She played with her hair again. "And you shouldn't feel like you need to make anything up to me. I feel really bad that you felt obligated to wait for a long freaking time in the parking lot by yourself for me. You had to get weird stares from people. People are so judgmental to anybody sitting by themself. You didn't get any weird stares did you?"

"It really wasn't that long of a wait," He shrugged. "Also I really don't care what people think about me."

"Duh." She hit herself in the head. "I'm such a failure of a fan. One of your songs is about that. It goes like, '_people are staring and I'm still not caring'" _she sung. "Yeah, I know I can't sing for shit."

"You're not too bad."

"You're just saying that to be nice. I'm positive that if I were to try out for American Idol my audition would be televised for all the wrong reasons. You know? The whole ratings crap where they air bad singers for people to laugh at. I would totally be one of those people if I auditioned. That's why I don't plan on ever auditioning for any singing TV shows. You on the other hand should totally try out for everything."

"I don't plan on trying out for anything anytime soon." He gave a weak grin. "And you're really not that bad of a singer. Believe me I've heard way worse."

She played with her hair again. It sort of made him think that she was looking for a lost piece of gum. "You just haven't heard me singing in my car. Lexus, she works at Hooters with me-"

"The hostess?"

"Yeah, her. She often rides with me to work. Anywho, she often decides to get out of the car walk to Hooters when we get close enough to the building for 'exercise'," she made air quotations. "I'm pretty sure its really because she gets annoyed of me singing in the car."

"I doubt that."

"You're just saying that. She's even asked a few times if we can listen to public radio on the way. Public radio!"

He laughed which felt a little weird for him. "Then I guess you are a really bad singer. Or your friend is just really into listening to politics around the world. I don't think you're as bad as you think. So, your friend is probably just really into politics."

"I'm sure it's the I'm the bad singer option." She looked around the now nearly empty parking lot. "Woah, dude. Have we really just been standing here talking? I'm not saying that I'm not enjoying our conversation. I'm just wondering how you're going to get home. Not to be noisy or anything. I just don't see any other car out here except mine. How did you get here?"

"I walked."

"All the way here? I mean I don't know where you live or anything. That would make me a total stalker. And I'm already freaky enough as is. It's just that Hooters is located somewhat far from most of the neighborhoods. Unless you don't live in most of the neighborhoods. But, I wouldn't know that. 'Cause I ensure you I'm not a stalker. And I'm rambling again. Being awkward is fun."

"I live in one of those neighborhoods that's part of your 'most of the neighborhoods' label." He shrugged. "And I'm kind of used to walking everywhere. I don't have a car. Never cared to get one. I just bum rides from Henrietta along with the rest of the guys whenever needed or whatever."

"Want me to drive you home? You'll be able to witness my terrible singing voice. Believe me, my singing is so bad…" she paused and giggled. "How bad is it?" she said using an squeakier voice. "That you'll never try to convince me that I sing good," she said her normal voice.

He stared at her without saying anything. There was no question that this girl was extremely awkward.

"Yeah, I know I'm not funny. Sorry, my awkwardness scares myself sometimes. I'll try to suppress my stupid. Anyway, would you like me to drive you home?"

"If its no trouble for you." He shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't mind walking by myself."

"Would you find me awkward… Well, I'm positive that you already find me super awkward. Would you feel weird if we listened to your music on the way to your house?" She ran a hand through her hair. "I mean it's your choice of whatever you want to listen to on the way. It could even be public radio if you want. I would love to listen to your songs. Since I love your singing voice. But, that might be a little weird for you."

"I really don't care what we listen to," he stated as they began walking to her car.

"You sure?" she asked hitting her keys. "Listening to myself sing would give me a huge ego. Well, if I could sing as good as you that is. Whenever I listen to myself sing on recording I want to crawl in a hole and die. Hell, even listening to my regular speaking voice makes me want to crawl in a hole and die."

He opened the passenger side door. "I doubt you're as bad as you think. And if you're afraid of me feeling weird we can listen to something else."

She sat down on the driver's side. "Okay. But, my taste of music might alarm you. It appears to alarm all my coworkers."

"I'm rarely alarmed." He closed his side door.

She started her car and_ "_Smells Like Teen Spirit" stared playing. The original version by Nirvana too. That didn't alarm Michael since most people know that song. Hell, Justin Timerlake and Jay-Z used parts of that song for that awful, in his opinion, song dumbly called "Holy Grail".

She sung along to a few verses of "_Hello, hello, hello, how low_?" from the song before saying, "Sorry, I know my voice is awful. I just really like this song. Anyway, the GPS is on your side of the car."

With that as a warning she leaned over him to open the glove compartment to grab the GPS. He tried his best not to touch her as she retrieved the GPS.

"Okay, so address time. Where do you live?" She asked once she was back on the driver's side of the car.

"I could have just told you how to get there without the GPS."

"I know." Mercedes gave an awkward laugh. "But trust me, we'll need the GPS too. I'm capable of getting lost anywhere. Its like a horrible super power of mine."

"That's a nice way to describe a curse."

"So, address?"

He gave her address and they began on their way to his house. She proved to him that she couldn't sing and he continued to ensure her that she wasn't that bad. Her playlist, that didn't contain any of his band's music, didn't really alarm him. That is until "Prude 12 21" followed by "Miss Murder" by AFI played.

Michael turned to her in surprise. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"What?" she asked as she almost hit the break of the car.

"AFI-"

"Yeah, I found them on YouTube a few days ago. 'Miss Murder' was suggested for me so I watched the music video… I know they're probably not your thing-"

"Are you fucking kidding me? How could you think that I wouldn't like them?"

She shrugged. "You just seemed so surprised. I don't know. I'm sorry."

He somewhat laughed. "It really took me by surprise. You had Nirvana, Paramore, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, and Billy Joel-"

"Sorry, I'm a sucker for 'Piano Man'."

"All artists who have played on the South Park annoying radio station at one point. And then AFI comes on an artist that has not played on that station. It just surprised me."

Mercedes pulled into his driveway. "I told ya that my coworkers found my playlist alarming." She stopped the car.

"That's true you did." he turned to look at his driveway and saw his father waiting in the doorway of his house. "Oh… shit."

"What's wrong?"

He opened his passenger door. "Not sure yet. But, that's my dad."

"Oh my. I'm sorry if I did anything that could have got you in trouble."

"You didn't."

"Should I leave?"

He shrugged and left the car. "I don't control what you do."

"I'll go in with you," she said as he closed his side of the door. "I did some pageants as a kid. The experience might help somehow."

He had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to end well for him, but he did notice his dad smile a little when he saw Mercedes step out of the car.

* * *

**A/N**

**You know what's hard? Typing when your eyes are dilated. Stupid eye doctor appointment. **

**As always please point out any grammar mistakes. I like to fix those. **


	3. Fathers Are Awkward

"Are you sure that there isn't anything that you would like to drink?" Michael's dad asked Mercedes.

She laughed. "Thanks, but I'm good, sir."

"Are you sure? We have soda, water, tea, coffee, juice-"

Michael cut his father off. "For the last time dad she doesn't want anything to drink."

His dad sat down across the table from the two teenagers. "Well, please let me know if you change your mind and would like anything to drink or eat-"

The goth cut his father off. "Don't start listing what we have in the fridge. She's already told you that she's not hungry."

"I know son. I'm just being polite, since you haven't offered your pretty friend here anything to eat or drink like a good host would." His father laughed and turned back to looking at the Hooters waitress. "Please let me know if you change your mind, darling."

She smiled. "Of course, sir."

"Its creepy that you call her 'darling'."

"Thank you again for driving my son home, Mercedes," his father said ignoring his son's comment. "And are you sure that he wasn't too drunk or high to find his house? I worry about him sometimes."

"Are you seriously asking that question again? I already told you that I wasn't getting drunk or high."

"All parents do, sir," Mercedes answered ignoring Michael's comment. "And your son wasn't high or drunk, sir. If he were high or drunk he would have smelled like it. It's a very particular smell, sir. The bathrooms at my work often smell like it if those hippies come by."

"What?"

"Lots of interesting people come to Hooters, Dad."

She gave an awkward laugh. "They do, but I ensure you sure that your son, Michael, isn't one of those interesting people. Well, he is interesting. But he isn't the getting high and drunk in a Hooters bathroom level of interesting. Well, mainly those guys just get high in the bathroom. Getting drunk in the bathroom would be stupid type of interesting, because we actually serve alcohol. Not to minors of course. Woah, I think we're really misusing the word 'interesting'. I apologize, sir."

The goth rolled his eyes. "You don't need to apologize for that. And you don't need to call him 'sir'."

His dad laughed. "Its alright. I'm just happy to hear that my son wasn't doing something that you call interesting-"

"I really misused the word-"

Michael cut Mercedes off. "He's trying to make a joke. It's failing as usual."

"Like all parents of teenagers I embarrass my son." His father rolled his eyes. "So, tell me Mercedes what do you plan to do after High School. You said that you're about to be a junior, right?"

"I did, sir. After High School I want to go to college to study Hotel and Restaurant Management. I've been working at restaurants since as long as I remember. I figure that I should stick with what I know. I also would love to minor in French."

His dad nodded. "Why French?"

"I'm about to be on my fourth year of French in school. I'm getting close to fluency, so I plan to keep going." She blushed. "I sort of started taking French classes, because I had a huge crush on this French guy when I was thirteen." She laughed. "He turned out to be gay."

"Uh…"

"Sorry, sir. I'm awkward with a rambling problem," she mentioned. "Anyway, Michael what do you plan to do after high school?"

_Bitch. _He turned to glare at her.

"I would love to know what Michael plans to do after high school as well," his fater stated. "He hasn't told me anything. What do you plan to do after high school, son?"

He shrugged. "Probably go to college. I don't know. Its none of your business."

Mercedes bite her lip in an awkward fashion then gave a weak smile. "Sorry, for making this conversation take a turn to the personal or whatever. Maybe I should go."

Michael's dad laughed. "Don't worry this conversation didn't take a turn to anywhere. Michael just doesn't like to think in future tense. You should try to help him with that."

Michael glared at his father and didn't say anything.

"Okay," she said weakly. "I think Michael should go to college to study Music Theory or English Literature. I think he would be good at that."

"He probably would, but I want him studying something that'll keep him employed."

He groaned. "Any major is a big gamble for the future."

His father turned to Mercedes. "He gets like this sometimes. I'm sorry."

"I get like that sometimes too, sir. It is all part of being a teenager. One day we're all going to grow up and realize that everything isn't butterflies and rainbows, and feel forever indicted to society because we scarred it with our obnoxious generic teenage personalizes. Or at least that's what my boss says."

"Your boss is right." The goth's father smiled. "It's a shame that my wife isn't home to meet such a nice girl."

"Where is mom exactly?" the tall goth asked finding a subject change that wasn't going to be about him. "Not that it matters or anything."

"Your mother is working late and having dinner with her coworkers," his father answered. "It's a shame that she wasn't able to witness the first time her son brought a girl home."

"Oh? Really?"

"That's not true," Michael spat. "Henrietta comes here all the time."

"Yes, but Mercedes is a girl that your mother would actually like. Henrietta is just so… well-"

"I haven't actually really met Henrietta before, but I think she's nice and really talented. Michael tells me that she writes most of their band's songs," the Hooters girl mentioned cutting the goth's father off. "I think that's amazing, because I find song writing ridiculously hard."

His father smiled. "Henrietta has a bit of a mouth. She once said that my wife's cooking looks and tastes like some demon jizzed all over some frozen TV dinners."

"She didn't say that to her face," Michael insisted. "Where you eavesdropping on our conversation? And didn't you tell me that eavesdropping is rude?"

"We were all sitting at the exact same table." His father turned to face Mercedes. "I'm sorry, that you have to listen to this, darling-"

"Calling her 'darling' is creepy, Dad."

The goth's father sighed. "Do you see what I have to put up with?"

"Its just all part of being a teenager, sir."

"You really don't have to call him 'sir'."

Mercedes gave an awkward laugh. "I should probably head home before it gets too late, sir. I have a mother that worries about me just as much as you worry about your son."

"Michael will walk you to your car. Won't you, Michael?"

She stood up from the table. "Thank you sir, for inviting me in. Your son really is special and the right type of interesting. Not the smoking pot in the Hooters' bathroom-" she cut herself off. "I really did enjoy our conversation."

His father stood up from his side of the table. "And we really enjoyed having you here, darling-"

"Calling her 'darling' is still creepy, Dad."

He ignored his son's comment. "Please feel free to come back anytime you like. My wife would probably love to meet such a nice and pretty girl like you that's friends with our son."

Mercedes smiled. "I would love to meet her too sometime." She held out her arms. "Also I'm a hugger."

"Oh, I like you."

Michael groaned as he watched Mercedes give his father a hug.

The hug ended. "Please come back here whenever you want. Michael go walk Mercedes to her car."

* * *

"Sorry, about my dad being well… my dad," he said once they were outside the house. "This was particularly weird for him. He normally isn't that social with me."

She laughed. "Nah, dude its cool. I've met all sorts of strange parents of dudes. You dad doesn't even make it into the top five of my list of weirdo fathers. I'm sure that your mother is cool too."

"Actually, my mother is way worse than my dad."

"I doubt she is as horrible as you think. I've dated an embarrassing number of guys. So far nobody can come close to Mrs. Donovan level of cray-cray. Well, they say the Broflovski mother is pretty insane, but that kid doesn't date anybody. Its probably because of his mother."

"Uh… hasn't Betsy Donavan been dead for like almost five years now?"

"I didn't mean to disrespect the dead or anything. She was just a little insane. Nice and good at baking but also insane." She gave an awkward laugh. "I guess the 'almost five years' thing gives you an idea of when I started dating. Huh?"

"I don't control your life."

She smiled. "I really did enjoy spending time with you. You really ought to come by my work and visit me again. Or we can hang out outside of my work. Not like outside in the parking lot. Like outside outside. Like at a place that's not my work."

"Yeah, that would be fun I guess. Uh… thanks for using your pageant skills or whatever to convince by dad that I wasn't doing drugs."

"I never actually won any of the pageants I was in, so I don't think it was my pageant skills. I think your dad really does know that you are a good kid."

He made a puff noise with his mouth. "Doubt it."

"Your family really is nice. The worry a little about you, but that's normal. Also do try to think about the future some." Without warning she gave him a hug. "You're really talented and I really think your band can make it big. It would be a real shame if your band didn't make it."

He awkwardly patted her back. "You could come to band practice some time if you want."

She pulled away from the hug. "I would love too. As long as your friends don't mind. I really don't want to be stepping over any boundaries."

"You wouldn't be," he stated as she opened up her car door. "Pete actually said that I should invite you to band practice sometime."

"Really? I thought that guy hated me-"

"He doesn't."

She sat down in her driver's seat. "Well, okay. Thanks for letting me drive you home. I really did have fun here. Even though your dad displayed his dad side towards you."

"He really did enjoy you being here. Sorry, about him calling you 'darling'. Its really creepy."

She laughed. "I work at Hooters. Believe me, I've been called way worse than 'darling' at work. And since when is 'darling' an insult?"

He didn't say anything to that.

"Well, I got to get home before my mom gets a rescue team to find me or something. See ya later!" She closed the door to her car.

"Bye." He waved as he watched her drive off.

_Shit. _Before he made it back into his house he realized that he forgot to get her number. One of the things Pete asked him to do.

* * *

"I like her," his father stated. "She's nice and pretty. Don't lose her."

"Dad, she's a waitress at Hooters."

"Its good that she has a job. Maybe it'll inspire you to get a job."

He sat down on the couch and took out his cigarettes. "Not going to happen."

His father took his box of cigarettes away. "Also smoking in the house is not going to happen."

"You suck Dad."

"You keep telling me that, son." His father sat down next to him. "So, how did you meet Mercedes?"

"Seriously, Dad? She was literally just here. You could have asked her how she knew me instead of going on to that stupid conversation about my future."

"You really ought to have some sort of plan after high school. After this summer you're going to be a senior. This time next year is going to be completely different for you."

He groaned. "I met Mercedes in elementary school when we were on that dance team together," he said answering his father's original question to avoid having the conversation about his future again.

His father laughed. "That's why she looked so familiar to me. Does she still dance?"

"She said that she dances in her room, work, with friends, and at parties," he answered. "She's not doing competition anytime soon or whatever."

"Oh okay. Why did you stop dancing?"

"I don't know, Dad."

"You should invite Mercedes to go dancing with you sometime. I bet she would probably say yes to that date idea."

"Yeah, she probably would."

"Then invite her."

"I don't just invite somebody to go dancing, Dad. Don't you know me?"

"You don't do a lot of things, Michael. You need to start looking at colleges and get a summer job."

He groaned and stood up from the couch. "I'm going to my room."

"Okay, good night son!" his dad called as he walked up the stairs. "Keep hanging out with Mercedes I think a girl like that would really be good for you."

"Yeah, whatever."

* * *

**A/N**

**The chapter I can't wait to write is Mercedes meeting Henrietta. I'm a bit of a Henrietta/Michael fan, hopefully you can tell with the constant texting I have the two do, and Michael's little worry of what Henrietta would think. I just can't wait to write that chapter. I hope I'm not setting myself up for failure. **

**As always feel free to go all grammar correcting happy in a review. **


	4. Awkward Observation

Henrietta groaned. "Do you want to know the most embarrassing part about my stupid family reunion thing?"

Firkel. "Not overly."

"I thought you already told us," Pete stated. "It was the measuring everybody's height ceremony that you went on and on about. Seriously, does your family really care that much about who is the tallest and who grew the most?"

She blew a smoke ring. "They do, but that wasn't the worst part about it. The worst part was the family photo."

The redhead yawned. "That sounds disgusting."

"Oh, it was. My stupid fugly grandmother even had us where matching outfits. I had to wear a fucking pink sweater that my crack head aunt made for me. It was horrible."

"Are we going to get a copy of this photo?"

"Photos," Henrietta corrected. "My stupid family had to take a photo of every possible combination of people possible plus a number of group shots of the whole family in a number of different poses. It took for fucking ever."

"That's so conformist of them."

"It is." She nodded. "One of the photos will probably be attached to those stupid Christmas cards my mom sends out. You'll probably get one of those stupid cards. Just burn it when you get it."

"Just like last year," the youngest recalled. "How did your mom even get our addresses anyway?"

"She stalks my life 'cause she's a bitch," Henrietta answered. "Did I mention how conformist my stupid cousins are?"

"The ones from out of state?"

"Yeah, those whores. Now they're all cheerleaders. I fucking hate that. My mom wouldn't shut up about how happy she is about them embracing their potential and blah, blah, stupid shit. It like seriously, Mom? I get want you're trying to say, and no I'm not going to be a stupid preppy cheerleader like my stupid Barbie clone cousins." She groaned. "Hopefully they'll all have eating disorders in a few days and my mom will shut up about how great they are."

Pete blew a smoke ring. "That'll probably happen."

"Yep," agreed Firkel.

"So, where's Michael?" she asked. "He missed out on my whole family reunion story."

Firkel made a puff noise. "Its not like you're not going to retell it. Try texting him or something."

"I don't feel like it." She pushed her hair out of her face. "He stopped returning my texts yesterday."

The redhead gave a brief smile. "I guess he took my advice," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Henrietta asked. "He took what advice?"

Pete groaned. "Yesterday, we ran into Mercedes-"

"Is that a person or did you hit some car?"

"She's a person. A really awkward person," he answered. "She was on that dance thing with Michael back in elementary school-"

"The Raisin's girl?"

"She's a Hooters girl now-"

"Like that's any improvement."

Firkel groaned. "I can't believe you guys actually went there after you dropped me off."

"Yeah… well anyway, she's really hot for Michael-"

"So, Michael broke her stupid conformist heart?" she spat. "Its not like she isn't going to go gaga for the next dude she sees wearing all black." She smirks. "Let's hope that's not Mike for your sake-"

"I was cuddled against my will! I don't like him."

"Yeah… just keep lying to yourself." She rolled her eyes. "What does this Mercedes chick have to do with Michael not returning my texts?"

"He didn't break her heart-"

"What?"

"He didn't break her heart," he repeated. "Well, not yet at least."

"I'm confused. Why didn't he just tell her to go fuck herself?"

"Because she can help us."

"With what?" Firkel asked.

"Yeah, what can that bitch help us with?" Henrietta added. "Since when do we get help from the conformists?"

"Marketing," Pete answered. "She's hot and that trait is going to get our band somewhere."

The youngest eyes went wide. "We're selling out?"

"We're not selling out we're just getting a little push-"

She rolled her eyes. "It sure sounds like selling out."

"Look, Mercedes just has a little crush on Michael. We're just going to milk to get the band a few gigs and hopefully get out of just playing in South Park. That's why he stopped returning your texts yesterday. He has to lead her on somewhat for this to work."

"I don't see how a Hooters girl can help us," the youngest stated.

Henrietta nodded. "I don't either."

"She's hot." Pete pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and turned to look at the youngest. "Sometimes I forget that you haven't really hit puberty yet."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Firkel said with his voice cracking.

"Conformist males and lesbians will bend over backwards to girls that have real boobs like Mercedes. If she didn't hug me then I would have thought that they were fake."

Henrietta frowned at him. "Like you would know what a boob feels like. Oversized male tits aren't boobs, Pete."

"For the last time being cuddled by Mike wasn't my choice," Pete spat. "And he doesn't have really have moobs, or oversized male tits, he's actually in really good shape and his chest is really smooth-" he cut himself off. "You were referring to me being hugged by my fat drunk father weren't you?"

She grinned. "You're never going to let go are you?"

The redhead groaned. "Don't say anything."

"So, you were spooning with that vamp fag while he was shirtless?"

Firkel nodded. "He was."

"Did that turn you on, Pete?"

"Shut up!"

Henrietta rolled her eyes. "I'll shut up as soon as you stop bringing that up. There has to be some psychological reason behind you not wanting to let that memory go. Could it be because your not so secretly sad that you'll never have a shirtless poser hug you so close for multiple hours ever again?"

"I hate you." Pete took out his phone. "I'm going to text Michael and figure out where he is."

"Oh looky, subject change! I must have hit a nerve."

The goth texting used his free hand to flip his friend off.

Firkel turned to Henrietta. "How are you the only one that can get him to shut up about that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "You just have to ask him if he liked it and he shuts up. Also its not like he had it the worst. I had to share my room with three posers and two of them were PMSing. I was at least smart enough to get a bed to myself by making one of them sleep on the floor."

"You know you could have slept on the floor, Pete," the youngest stated. "Or you could have kicked Makowski to the floor."

"Yeah Pete, you didn't have cuddle him," she added. "Did you cuddle him or did he really cuddle you? Seriously, who started the spooning?"

Pete put his phone up. "I told Michael to be at Benny's in less than half an hour. We should start walking."

"Good, I have a few words to say about this Mercedes chick to him."

He put his hand to his face. "Anything you want to tell to Michael you can tell to me. You haven't met Mercedes yet, so give the girl a break."

"I don't need to meet her. She works at Hooters. What else is there to know about her?"

"Well for one she's really awkward and likes our bands music-"

She cut him off. "And that's supposed to make up for her working at Hooters? Seriously, she's probably just some tits with no personality."

"She has a really awkward personality."

"And she works at Hooters."

"So?"

"So, she works at Hooters therefore she is just another conformist pair of tits. I bet her face really isn't that pretty. Hell, I doubt anybody even knows what her face looks like since she has boobs."

He groaned. "Ugh, why did I promise Michael that I'd deal with your female side?"

Her eyes went wide. "Excuse me? My female side?"

He grumbled. "Sometimes you get really female like and annoying like right now-"

"Its usually once a month," Firkel added.

_Fuck. _Pete turned to the Firkel to glare at him.

"You guys are all just a bunch of misogynists conformists!" she screeched. "I'm going home. Have fun getting coffee without me." She gave them the finger before walking off.

* * *

"Son, your father says that you brought a girl over yesterday," Michael's mother said. "Did you get any pictures of her? I want to see what this girl looks like."

His father laughed. "Damn it. I should have thought of getting some photos. You would have liked her. She quite the looker."

"Dad, getting photos of her would have been creepier than calling her 'darling'," Michael stood up from the kitchen table. "Also I'm going to meet my friends at Benny's."

"Are you going to meet Mercedes? If you're going to meet her get pictures. I want to see what she looks like. Or better yet bring her by the house."

"Oh, you should totally do that! She can have dinner with us."

"I thought I wasn't allowed to invite people over for dinner anymore."

His father laughed. "If Mercedes starts calling dinner 'demon jizz', I promise that I'll kick her out."

"We're not going to kick the girl out are we?" his mother asked with her eyes wide.

"Mom, that was sarcasm. Dad failed at making a joke again. Also I'm leaving like right now."

"Get some job applications while you're out!" his father called as he left the room.

"Fat chance!" he called back.

* * *

"Hey, sorry that I'm late. My parents actually had a family breakfast," Michael said as he reached the booth. "It was like they were trying to be a sitcom family or something. Nobody does family breakfast. That's just a television thing."

"Its okay we just got here anyway."

Firkel nodded. "We ordered you a coffee."

"Thanks." The tall goth sat down. "Where's Henrietta?"

"She got mad and left us before we came to Benny's."

"Why'd she get mad?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "Take a wild guess?"

"You mentioned Mercedes."

"Yep," the redhead stated. "Also Firkel made it worse by stating she gets really female like once a month."

"Oh fuck." Michael turned to glare at the youngest. "You didn't!"

"I did."

"Oh he did. And it made Henrietta claim that we are 'misogynists conformists' and flick us off and leave."

The youngest nodded. "I just made an observation. It was pretty conformist of her to get mad."

"So, should we apologize to Henrietta or something?"

The redhead shrugged. "I don't know. She'll probably forget about it once she's calmed down."

"And if not?"

"Then I guess Firkel will apologize for his little observation," he answered. "But… whatever. Knowing Henrietta she'll probably be back to hanging out with us before the end of the day. Like once she realized that ditching us makes her alone. You know like last time."

"And the time before that," Firkel added. "Which was like exactly one month since the last time…. Weird."

"Whatever." The redhead shrugged. "So, how was your date with Mercedes?"

"It wasn't a date," the tall goth corrected. "She just drove me home, met my dad, and went home."

"She met your dad?" Pete set down his coffee. "How'd that work out?"

"Well, Dad was waiting in the doorway for me. He thought that I was too drunk and high to get home by myself, and Mercedes convinced him that I wasn't. Then Dad fell in love with her or something."

Firkel frowned. "What?"

"Since when do your parents actually like your friends?" Pete added.

The youngest poured another pack of sugar into his coffee. "I thought your parents said that your friends were a bad influence on you."

"It confused me too," he admitted ignoring her little comment. "Dad even called her 'darling' multiple times."

"That's creepy."

"That's what I told him. What's creepier is the fact that he asked me to get pictures of her next time I see her for my mom can see what she looks like. He even called her a 'looker'."

"Gross."

"They asked me this morning if I could invite her over for dinner."

"I thought your parents weren't going to allow anymore of your friends coming over for dinner," Pete stated. "Your mom wasn't too happy last time we ate there."

"That's only because Henrietta said that her cooking looks and tastes like some demon jizzed all over some frozen TV dinners."

"It sort of did." Firkel shrugged. "Your mom really isn't that good of a cook."

The redhead flipped his hair out of his face. "So, are you going to invite Mercedes over for dinner?"

Michael sighed. "I don't know. Maybe if I run into her."

"Why don't you just text her?"

"I don't have her number."

Pete facepalmed. "One job. You had one job."

"Asking for her number just didn't come up. It just would have been awkward if I just asked her for her number out of nowhere."

"She's awkward. How would that have been awkward?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to go find her to get her phone number?"

"What do you mean by 'find her'? She works at Hooters and therefore is probably at Hooters."

"So, do you want me to go there to get her number?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because that would be awkward."

The tall goth frowned. "But she's awkward so how would that be awkward?"

"It just would be awkward. And extremely stalkery."

Firkel groaned. "You're confusing me. Maybe we should just forget about Mercedes."

"We need to get a few gigs out of her before we just forget about her," Pete clarified. "Our band has potential to get out of South Park. We just need the little push."

"So, how are we supposed to get Mercedes number without being awkward about it?"

"Don't use 'we'. This part is your job."

"Fine, how am I supposed to get Mercedes number without being awkward or stalkery about it?"

The youngest shrugged. "I don't know. I'm still confused about all of this."

"We need a female brain for this." Pete groaned. "Ugh, if Henrietta was here she would know what know what to do. She always gets like this when we actually need her advice."

"Should we apologize to her to get her help?"

"Yeah… but Firkel is the one that should apologize to her."

"I don't want to apologize."

"We should all apologize together. She seems pretty mad. She'll usually will text me when one of you two piss her off. Its weird that she hasn't texted me yet."

"She knows that you're talking to Mercedes, so she's mad at you too."

"I hate it when she gets mad at me."

"Don't worry. Its really just Firkel's little observation that pissed her off. That's why he need to apologize."

"I still don't want too."

"I still think we should all apologize together."

"Fine, we'll all apologize for noting. We should probably wait for her to calm down." The redhead sighed. "Like after she decides she wants to hang out with us again. I hate it when she gets like this."

"Me too, and that's why we need to apologize."

* * *

**A/N**

**So, chapter is posted late 'cause I've been doing summer classes and working when I'm not studying. Never decide to be an engineering student until you can legally drink. The stress is wonderful and I can't make it less wonderful legally. Come on, US government I'm technically an adult! Also never decide to take Calculus II in five weeks. It will kill parts of your brain. **

**As always feel free to point out any grammar mistakes. Fixing those makes the story better**


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